Her Smile
by Alia Rubrik
Summary: And that's why, though it was far from perfect, she could still smile. Hint of romance if you squint with a telescope.


**I should be working on my other stories, but eh... can't be bothered :P So I give you this instead. A oneshot manifested from a variety of sources, but mainly just the dismal weather :P**

**Dedication: Patterned stockings. Because they make me feel, for a second, that I have a fashion sense :P**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto, or any of its associated characters. I utilise them for entertainment purposes only.**

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><p><strong>.:{8}:.<strong>

_**Her Smile**_

**.:{8}:.**

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><p>It wasn't love. She had to keep reminding herself of that. There was no love between them. Not anymore, anyway. There was respect, and acceptance. Good-morning smiles and comfort, but it wasn't love.<p>

Love was kissing though sick. Love was whispers in the dead of night, and finding flaws to be the most beautiful. Love was as lasting as it was fleeting, like the sparkle in the eye that never really dies.

_This wasn't love._

Sasuke knew her body, inside and out. He knew her moans and he knew her warmth. He knew her fingers and her mouth, her smile and her smell. And Sakura knew that about him as well. And she supposed that, in the end, it could have been worse.

_At least it wasn't hate._

He came home to her – later and later every time. A workaholic, through and through. There was too much respect to cheat, and neither could be bothered to extend the effort, anyway.

The household wasn't completely bereft of love, though. Two small children, a boy and a girl, garnered an equal amount of love from both parents – an infinite amount of love.

The girl, so aptly named Ai, had just recently celebrated her sixth birthday, whilst the boy, optimistically called Hikaru, was nearly four. Both were too young to understand; to comprehend. They didn't know why their daddy didn't hug their mummy in public, or hold her hand. Whenever they attempted to chastise their parents for committing such a _heinous_ crime, both Sasuke and Sakura would merely smile and say, "We just don't want to."

Before entering matrimony, and having children, Sakura had thought that she was experienced in the ways of the world. That she had seen just about everything, before settling down with Sasuke. Sasuke had, by no means, been her first – Naruto held Sakura's virginity; the consequence of too many drinks, and a Sasuke-induced depression. Besides, it had been necessary to lose her virginity early, on the off chance that she'd be captured and raped in her line of work. Naruto had just been the only one she trusted enough at the time to give something so precious.

But children – her own children – were a completely different ball game. Being a mother was _hard_. Being a good mother was even harder. And Sasuke was never home during the day to help out. He had been there for their birth, had held her hand while she pushed them from her body. And he took time off when she needed a break, so it wasn't as if he didn't support her at all, but she saw things he could never dream of.

She saw their cuts and their bruises and their tears.

She saw their story books come alive in their eyes.

She knew that Hikaru still liked to suck his thumb when he was nervous, and that Ai would always put her tomatoes in the napkin on her lap, then add them to her daddy's plate because she knew how much he loved them. She never saw him eat them; the plate would have long gone cold in the fridge by the time Sasuke gets home to consume it.

She watched, with a heavy heart, how they would perk up upon hearing that they'd be spending time with their father, as if to spend time with him was a _privilege_.

She would fight with them, and sing them to sleep, answer questions she'd never even thought about.

"_Mummy, where do unicorns come from?"_

And to not answer was a sign of weakness. Mummy had all the answers. If she couldn't answer something, then it didn't exist. And _everything_ had to have a story behind it.

"_Well, sweetheart, whenever you see a rainbow, a whole herd of unicorns race across it, trying to reach the end. But every time, the rainbow disappears, just before they reach the end."_

"_How can we help them, mummy?"_

"_Well, the rainbow has to stay there for longer, and that's the job of the fairies. But there's never quite enough fairies to make it last."_

"_How can we make more fairies?"_

_I don't know. "For every dream you have, a new fairy is born. So the more you dream, the sooner the unicorns will get here."_

But Sasuke didn't have to deal with questions. Sasuke had to deal with spilt ice creams and smiles. Sasuke didn't have to fake smiles and provide answers to questions that tore his heart out. Sasuke didn't know just how perceptive Ai was. He didn't realise that she saw everything, and always asked the worst questions.

"_Mummy, why is daddy never around? Doesn't he like being home?"_

Ai was always asleep when Sasuke was home, and most would regard his cold indifference as a lack of affection.

But they didn't see what Sakura saw.

They didn't see Sasuke creep through the door every night, one, two in the morning, exhausted beyond measure. They didn't see him drag his dinner out of the fridge and consume it without thinking. They didn't see how he'd meticulously clean his body of the day's dirt and grime, before sneaking in to their children's separate bedrooms and kissing them goodnight, tucking them in and placing a lost toy back into small, empty arms.

And nobody but Sakura ever would. That was her well done reward, for surviving another day. And like a criminal, she would flee back to the room she shared with him before he would catch her, though she knew that he was aware of her watching. It was never _'their room'_; it was the room that they shared. The bed that they shared. The bed that they reproduced in, when the house began to feel too empty. Or had sex in, when the need became too great and they had energy to spare.

Some nights, if he was feeling particularly amorous, he'd drape his arm over her waist, or even press up behind her, and share warmth. And it was those times where she could close her eyes and pretend that it _was_ love.

So really, Sakura didn't get her happily ever after, but she wasn't unhappy with what she had. Sasuke didn't love her, and it wasn't a happy marriage full of sunshine and daisies, every day filled with smiles and hugs and kisses. But he respected her enough to come home every night, and not look twice at another woman. He didn't question how she raised their children, and didn't force her to give up her job.

No, it wasn't love. But it could have been worse. And that's why, though it was far from perfect, she could still smile.

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><p><strong>.:{8}:.<strong>

**Fin**

**.:{8}:.**

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><p><strong>Love it? Hate it? Meh, it's nearly midnight and inspiration lunged at me. Figured I may as well take it.<strong>

**So if anyone favourites this, please kindly leave a review as well. It'd be really appreciated :)**** Thank you :)**

**Much love, SapphireRivulet xox**


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